Gracefully grayson, p.15
Gracefully Grayson, page 15
“I’m sorry, Grayson,” Finn continues. “I just want you to know that this outcome is not what I intended when I told you that you could try out for Persephone.”
“I know,” I say. “Of course I know that.”
He looks relieved. “If it’s okay with you, I’m going to talk frankly with the cast today about my future here at Porter. There are lots of questions swirling, and I feel that people deserve to know what’s going on.” He pauses and looks at me carefully. “I know you’re aware of the rumors. I’m not going to mention anything about you,” he continues. “I’m just going to tell everyone what’s happening with me. I wanted to make sure you were okay with that. I want you to know that I am aware of how this affects you, too.”
I can’t say anything. I just nod. I glance over to the stage where everyone is gathered. They’re watching us, and the auditorium is too quiet. This is what I’ve been hoping for, to know the truth, and now I feel like I’m on trial and the jury is about to deliver my verdict.
“Listen, you better go join everyone else.” Finn looks to the auditorium doors. Dr. Shiner is walking in. But he doesn’t shoo me away. He turns back to me slowly. Deliberately. “I’m sorry, Grayson.”
“No, I’m sorr—” I start to say, but he cuts me off.
“No,” he says, and points his finger at me. “You have nothing to apologize for. Remember that. Now go join your group.” I walk back to the rest of the cast. I don’t want to, but I don’t know what else to do. I feel too weak to jump up and sit next to Paige again, so I slide down onto the floor alone and lean my back against the wooden cabinets that line the front of the stage.
Everyone is already silent, but Finn asks us for our attention anyway. My heart won’t stop pounding, and I look up to where he’s standing right in front of me. “Cast and crew,” he says, “this is it. This is our last week of rehearsal before the big performance. You all have worked so hard, and I know this is going to be an amazing show. This afternoon, we are doing the performance in full costume. The crew is here, and we need to give them all a big round of applause. They designed and created all the scenery, and they’re going to be working the curtains as well as the lights, and doing the scene changes. Without them, there would be no show.” Everyone claps. I sit on my hands. Finn looks like a giant from down here, and I focus on the brown leather of his shoes. The soles look worn out.
He pauses. “There’s one other order of business that I want to talk to you about before we take our places and begin.” He looks us over and glances down at me for a second. I hold my breath and focus on his feet. He continues. “Many of you have probably been wondering about all the rumors swirling around this production for the past few weeks. I believe that rumors are unhealthy. You deserve to know the truth.”
The room is still. I look at Dr. Shiner sitting in the front row. His fingertips are pressed together, and he’s watching the back of Finn’s head as he talks. I look at Finn’s feet again as he continues.
“I’ve made a decision,” Finn finally says. “It will soon be time for me to move on.” I suddenly feel like I’m in a dark tunnel. Finn’s shoes are being sucked away from me by a giant vacuum until I’m on one end and he’s on the other. Everything between us is narrow and black.
He goes on. I squeeze my eyes shut and listen. “I’ve been a teacher at Porter for almost ten years now. Recently, I’ve been in touch with a small playhouse in New York City called the Central. It’s actually a very historic, famous theater. Their current assistant director will be leaving soon, and I’m going to take over her position. It’s an amazing job at an amazing theater, and it’s something that I can’t pass up. So The Myth of Persephone will be my last production here at Porter. I feel honored to have gotten to work with all of you on it.”
I look away. The tunnel is gone, and all that is left is me, sitting on the floor for everyone to see. What about me? I want to scream.
For a split second, Finn looks down at me again. Everyone above me seems frozen, like they’re glued in place. “Okay. Places! This is a dress rehearsal. Give it all you’ve got.” His words ring through the silent auditorium.
I stand up in front of him. I can feel the stillness behind me. Slowly, it bleeds into chaos, like someone turning the volume up on the radio. There’s whispering, then shouting, then scrambling for costumes. “Grayson,” Finn says, taking a step closer to me, “I believe that you can do this without me.” He pauses, and then continues. “All of this.”
I nod and float backstage. I don’t make eye contact with anybody. Ms. Landen helps me step into my golden gown for Act One. And even though Finn is leaving because of it, and even though Aunt Sally thinks I’m a monster, when I look at myself in the giant, floor-to-ceiling mirrors, I finally see myself the way I’m supposed to be—my inside self matched up with my outside self. And now, everyone else will finally see it, too.
IT’S LIKE I’VE been waiting my entire life for this day. The brushstrokes surround me—the bright crystal and the darkness. Tonight I will be a girl in front of an audience. I’m supposed to be a girl, and tonight I will be. And Finn will leave Porter because of it. White and black. Light and dark. And me, in the middle of it all. Gray.
There’s nothing else for me to do but walk through these columns of dark and light, so I do; I go through them to the library after fourth period. I have my lunch in my backpack, but there’s no way I’ll be able to eat it. I have a science project due tomorrow, too. I’m almost done, but I don’t know how I’ll be able to concentrate enough to finish it. My script is in my backpack, and I smile when I think of it. It’s beaten up and worn out, and the cover is taped on now.
“Gracie!”
I don’t know why I turn around. In front of me, the late morning light slants through the hall windows. It paints bright rectangles on the tile floor. Next to the rectangles are Ryan and Tyler. And, off to the side, a few steps away, is Jack.
I want to crack open and scramble out of my body. I want to become a bird again and fly up to the ceiling, but I’m stuck on the ground. My eyes are glued to my cousin, and all I can think of is the secret knock I used to use to get into his room—tap, tap, bang, bang, bang. Ryan starts to talk, and I shift my eyes away from Jack, onto him.
“You ignoring us, Gracie?” he asks.
“No,” I say. It’s all I can think of.
“You gonna blow us off again? Why didn’t you answer us?”
I shrug.
Tyler’s voice now: “You’re looking pretty today. Where are you going?”
“Library.”
Darkness, Light, Darkness, Light, Darkness, Light.
“Why don’t you come with us to the lunchroom? We wanna hang out with you.”
Tyler and Ryan are next to me now. Jack hasn’t moved, and Tyler looks at him. He claws at him with his eyes, but Jack takes a little step back. Tyler’s hand is on my arm now. Ryan grins next to him.
“I’m sorry,” Jack suddenly says, and he reaches his hand toward us awkwardly. I don’t know who he’s talking to. I think of him reaching for my hand at the Grand Canyon. I remember the feel of his palms, callused from baseball practice.
My heartbeat feels like it’s coming from outside of me again.
I break free and run through the empty hallway to the staircase. My feet pound another beat on the floor, and my heartbeat and all the footsteps bounce like millions of bullets inside my head.
At the top of the empty staircase, I turn around. Tyler and Ryan are right behind me, and Jack’s back is disappearing down the hallway. I feel somebody’s hands on my backpack, pulling and then pushing. I steady myself. Hands grab at my hair. I shake my backpack off, and it falls onto the stairs. Someone’s feet are under mine now, in between mine, and I feel the hands—pushing again. I grab for the railing, but it’s too far away and I’m falling.
First, my forehead. My wrist explodes into flames. Then my knee. Slower now. Finally, the ceiling.
There’s no other movement on the stairs, and I turn my head away, toward the open lunchroom door. As I stare into the lunchroom, the first thing I notice is the unbelievable level of noise. Then, I feel the floor pounding. Footsteps are coming my way. I don’t try to sit up. I don’t want to.
Sebastian’s face is suddenly above me. A second later, Dr. Shiner’s. “I told you to hurry,” Sebastian whispers.
“Thank you, Sebastian,” Dr. Shiner sighs.
More pounding. High heels.
Mrs. Nance is kneeling next to me now. Behind her are faces. They lean in toward me, over her shoulders, like weeds.
“Back to the lunchroom!” Dr. Shiner yells.
They disappear, flattened by a tornado. I blink. There’s a sharp fire burning in my left wrist.
Mrs. Nance holds something to my forehead. She moves it away. It looks like red paint.
Dr. Shiner kneels down next to me. “Who?” he sputters.
“I already told you what Ryan said.” A voice from behind.
The back of Shiner’s head. “Didn’t I tell everyone to get back to the lunchroom, Sebastian?”
More burning. Flames in my bone.
Mrs. Nance’s hand is behind my back now. “It’s enough, Ed. I’m taking him to my office. You can ask your questions later.”
I’m dizzy when I stand up, and she keeps her hand on my back. My left hand hangs at my side, numb, burning, lifeless.
In the nurse’s office, I lie on a cot and look at the tiny black holes on the ceiling tiles. I hear Mrs. Nance in the other room on the phone.
“I’m terribly sorry, Mrs. Sender. He’s resting now. Yes, of course. Dr. Shiner’s investigating. Well, it is quite swollen. Definitely. It needs to be checked out. Okay. We’ll be here. See you soon.”
I close my eyes, and I see the aura of the ceiling light. It reminds me of the spotlights, and I push myself up on the cot with my good hand. “Mrs. Nance?” I call.
Her head appears in the doorway. “Yes, honey. Lie down. You really need to take it easy.”
“The play’s tonight.” The darkness is trying to take over.
“I know, dear.”
I don’t want to let it. “I’m still doing it.”
“Lie down, honey. We’ll figure it out.”
I’m dizzy anyway, so I listen to her.
Finally, I hear Aunt Sally’s voice. Why couldn’t Mrs. Nance have called Uncle Evan? I turn away from her when she walks in. “Grayson,” she says, rushing to my side. She leans over me, but I keep my eyes on the windows. She walks around to the other side of the cot and lowers her face until it’s next to mine. “Grayson, honey. Are you okay?” The rims of her eyes are pink. “Oh, Grayson. This is exactly what I was worried about.”
“Mrs. Sender?”
“Yes, what is it, Mrs. Nance?”
“I think he’s been through a lot.”
“Of course he has.” She turns to me. “Your uncle is meeting us at the ER. Do you need help getting up?”
I don’t, and I follow her out the door. Mrs. Nance squeezes my good hand as I go.
Uncle Evan meets us outside the front doors to the emergency room. It’s humid out, and the snow is melting off the roof. A river of dirty water runs along the curb. Uncle Evan and I walk in while Aunt Sally parks the car. I feel like I’m floating, so I sit down in the waiting room while Uncle Evan talks to the receptionist. I don’t want to see anything else that’s going on around me, so I study the blue-and-white tile floor. I smell rubbing alcohol and hear commotion. I don’t look up.
It takes forever to get the X-ray. I sit between Uncle Evan and Aunt Sally while we wait. “I’m still doing the play,” I say once, but Uncle Evan tells me to just concentrate on relaxing.
“We’ll figure it out,” he says.
In the X-ray room, I’m alone with a nurse and a giant, humming metal machine. I catch a glimpse of my wrist. It’s pink and swollen, so I look away at a painting of a robin on the wall.
We get to wait in a different room now. A white curtain surrounds a cot, and I lie on it while Aunt Sally and Uncle Evan sit in blue chairs, whispering. Finally, I hear the screeching of metal and a doctor pushes the curtain open.
“Grayson?” she asks, looking down at a clipboard in her hand.
“Yes.” Aunt Sally answers for me.
“Good afternoon. I’m Dr. Mitchell,” she says, and extends her hand to Aunt Sally, and then Uncle Evan.
“Sally and Evan Sender,” Aunt Sally replies. “Is it broken?”
“Well, it’s not broken, but it is fractured.” She slides the X-ray films out of an envelope and onto the flat, rectangular light on the wall. I look away as she flips the switch. “We call it a hairline fracture. Here it is—you can see it. It’s not too bad, as far as fractures go, but he’ll need to be in a cast for about two months.”
“Jesus,” Aunt Sally whispers.
“It could have been a lot worse,” the doctor assures her. “What happened, now?” she asks, turning to me. “You fell down the stairs at school?”
I nod.
She studies me, and nobody says anything. “Okay. Well, I’m going to have Allison prepare the plaster for your cast. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” She walks out.
I look at Aunt Sally and Uncle Evan. “Are you in pain?” Uncle Evan finally asks.
Just then, the curtains open again and a nurse with short, blond hair comes in. “Grayson, right?” she asks, smiling. “I’m going to be helping Dr. Mitchell with the plaster. You want a fancy color for the cast?” She’s talking to me like I’m four. I stare at her.
“What’s it gonna be, big guy? We’ve got black, blue—”
“Pink,” I say.
“Oh, Grayson,” Aunt Sally sighs. “That is just what landed us here in the first place! Why would you want a pink cast?”
“Sally!” Uncle Evan hisses it like a warning. “Would you step outside with me for a moment?” He looks at Allison. “Excuse us, please. Grayson can choose whatever color he’d like.” The metal rings on the curtains scream as they leave. I can hear their hushed voices coming from the other side. I look at Allison and try to focus on her face. I concentrate on her slightly shifting contact lenses. She studies me.
“So, pink?” she asks. I nod. “Okeydokey.” She disappears and I’m alone.
I rest my head on my right hand. Aunt Sally and Uncle Evan’s voices have gotten louder.
“Why, after everything that just happened, would we allow him to walk into school with a pink cast on his wrist?” Aunt Sally is saying.
Uncle Evan says something I can’t hear, and then nobody says anything. “Well,” Uncle Evan finally whispers, “I think I better call Mr. Finnegan.”
“Mr. Finnegan? How about Dr. Shiner?”
“We need to discuss what’s going to happen tonight, with the play.”
Allison comes back in. Dr. Mitchell is a step behind her. She glances back at Aunt Sally and Uncle Evan, and then looks me over.
“Dr. Mitchell?” I ask.
“Yes?” Her eyes are soft and brown.
“I’m the lead in our spring play tonight.”
“Hmm.” She looks thoughtful. Aunt Sally and Uncle Evan are still yelling at each other in loud whispers.
I’m so sleepy, but I don’t want to let the blackness seep into the light places. I feel like a tired soldier. “I need to be in it.”
She doesn’t say anything for a minute. “I hear you,” she finally says.
“Can you tell them it’s okay?”
“I’ll tell them. As long as you promise to rest up and take it easy after it’s done.”
I nod. “Thank you,” I whisper. I look away. I feel their hands on my arm, on my hand. My wrist is freezing, then hot, wet and then dry. In the end, they say they’re done. I finally look down. My hand is resting peacefully by my side, my fracture enclosed in a hard, pink shell.
The Myth of Persephone
Prologue:
Programs rustling, whispers in the dark
Suddenly: silence
A circle of light frames a messenger
White robe, golden wings
He talks of things
Like good guys, bad guys
And heroes who win
When the curtains slowly rise
Creaking, crawling
And light floods the stage
We stare
Act I, Scene I:
Because inside the costume waits the boy
Who everyone’s talking about
Leaning forward, ready
Pink cast swollen on his wrist
His golden gown glows under overhead lights
We smirk
As he frolics through his cardboard garden
(Tiger lilies, willow trees)
Somebody should take that boy for a haircut
Act I, Scene II:
We know backstage
That teacher is guiding, directing
It’s like the circus came to town, a freak show
In the still dark
We watch the bright stage
Hades’s black robe flows
As he ponders the wanting, the abduction, the capture
Of light
Act I, Scene III:
It’s funny, we have to admit
The boy looks graceful up there
His face smooth and calm
His voice a clear bell
When he’s whisked away to Hades
The cardboard horses dragging
The sturdy silver carriage
His gown a glorious golden circle around him
We hope he’ll jump out: Run away!
We scream in our heads
We start to forget he’s a boy
Act II, Scene I:
Trapped in the Underworld
Tied down by evil Souls
Persephone watches, helpless
Demeter tears through wilting gardens
Nature dies in her wake
Willows wither, flowers droop, dead leaves
Fall
They fall and they carpet the earth
